


A Dream of Sand and Stars

by yeahwrite



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Baby, Baby Gaemon, Canon Compliant, Dramatic Irony, Dreams, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Sex, Nudity, Politics, Potions, Pre-Canon, Referenced prostitution, Romance, Viva La Revolution, but nothing shown, culture clash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 13:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19064038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeahwrite/pseuds/yeahwrite
Summary: Sylvenna Sand and Essie.Two forever devoted lovers, with fates intertwined and a silver-haired babe in arms.Two forever devoted lovers, with dreams far, far bigger than either the two of them.





	A Dream of Sand and Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Essie means star!
> 
> Also, this is written bearing in mind that "Sand" indicates not only a noble parent but acknowledgement by them: hence, why I hc Sylvenna as having received some education and being able to read/write.
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading!  
> (I have not read the books themselves, just about them - so hopefully this still turns out alright!)

There were a few things, that helped keep Sylvenna Sand sane, in the wretched hive that was Kings Landing – so, so far, from the place she had been born.

The place she still had, in her heart, sing as home, no matter the years that now separated her from Dorne.

One of those things, was a list that she kept both written and a constant in her head.

A list, she developed and curated over and over and kept in her head like a mantra – no, like a _prayer_.

Promises and ways and edicts, had she ever the unknowable power to bring them to light.

To haul this place kicking and screaming if it must, to something better.

That, was one of the things that helped Sylvenna Sand remain sane, in this place.

Dreams after all, were important – not things to be forgotten or ever be taken slightly. They meant too much and in circumstances, could change too much.

Hence why, with a skill few here possessed and she never forgot – Sylvenna, would take great care to dutifully record them all.

One of the others, of the things that kept her sane, was with her now.

Pale flesh entangled in her dark, making it hard to know where one began and the other ended – simply taking a moment to bask in each other’s pleasance.

A blissful, beautiful thing that she treasured every aspect of – right to the scent of Essie’s hair, which Sylvanna took another breath of, a corner of her lip curling up into a smile as she did.

She wondered what she was dreaming of.

Her star.

She’d told her, bits and details of hers – but Essie had remained ever tight lipped, about what thoughts came to her in her slumbers.

Telling, that they were nothing but silly, disjointed thoughts that caused her embarrassment.

Sylvenna had laughed at that – they were both whores, for crying out loud!

What was there, so embarrassing to _them?_!

Essie’s cheeks had only flushed further red at that though, like blooming red flowers, prompting the both of them to have to be kissed all the better.

As if sensing that she was being thought about, Essie chose then to stir – sleepy eyes slowly opening, to meet Sylvanna’s own, warm brown ones.

A light groan as they scrunched back shut then, a cute wrinkle of her nose as she fought back a fierce yawn.

Something that encouraged a light laugh from Sylvenna – “Hello, lover.”

Essie moved a hand to rub at an eye.

“Sand in your eye?” Sylvenna finished, with a teasing voice.

A light, playful jab in response from Essie at that, before she gave a begrudging smile in response.

“S’Awful, Sylvie. Awful.” Came groggily.

“How will I cope?”

“Henceforth? With great, great difficulty, I’m afraid.” Sylvenna did her best to put her most sullen voice and face on.

“Oh, sod off. V’Had worse.” Essie, gave a kiss on the forehead in great contrast to her tone, before starting to move to get up.

Sylvenna disentangled herself to let her, shuffling back on what was technically a ‘word’ bed.

Although this particular room was as much _there’s_ as there _could_ be one, in this House of Kisses.

Almost inevitably, this would be where they would find themselves with each other, when work subsided enough to sleep or use some of the implements strewn about.

Of course, there was also a third resident now, here.

A new one, although not one that was currently in-room.

Little Gaemon most likely being in the care of a servant girl at the moment, or perhaps one of their fellow whores.

They would have to see after him, once up and prepared.

Which, they would likely have to be quite soon – lest the madame start to get angry.

That being why,  Sylvenna then went to get up too, stretching herself out as she did and listening to the sounds of locked joints cracking back out of place.

Even in her bleary state, Essie still managed to look back and give a whistle, eyes raking over her lover's body.

Sylvenna returned the favour, giving off her own whistle as her eyes took  in every little mark and delicious curve that there was.

A routine, that the two of them would share every time.

And just as much a routine, is how it was a bit of a shame, really, when Essie started slowly pulling her dress on – even if it still left little to the imagination.

That way that it hung off her lovely figure, with her curls cascading down and framing her equally lovely face…

It could really make a woman’s heart stutter.

Although, she still very much noticed the tired look on Essie’s face.

“Would you like something to wake you up? I should still have some potions.” Sylvenna offered, as she leaned down to sort from under the bed- pulling out a canvas, that wrapped up some bottles of various concoctions.

Taking one out and given a slight whiff – followed by a disgusted cough at the stinging spell.

Yes, that’s definitely it.

The advantage of knowing your plants.

You can grow and cultivate lovely plants and lovely potions both.

Nice things to wake you up or give you…other sorts of boosts, in getting your various affairs in order.

A wordless sound came as an almost absent-minded agreement.

“Men do like it when you can actually look at them.”

“Men like it when we just about do anything to them, they have terrifyingly low standards over here.” She went over and pressed the potion into Essie’s hands, clasping her own firmly around hers, before leaning to whisper into her ear-

“Try not to smell it.”

“I ‘member still, the last time I did.” Essie gave off a gagging face.

“Felt like a pregnancy sickness.”

As Sylvie released her hands, Essie used one to clamp shut on her nose, before downing the potion in one smooth toss of the head backwards.

Her face contorted as she took several deep, deep breathes and her mouth swelled like some kind of frog – in an effort to not have any deeper sort of reaction.

“ _Blegh_.” Came her final, refined response.

“What’s in that? You couldn’t put anything nicer?”

“For you my lady? I would if I could. But alas…” Hands splayed helplessly.

“Well, for you my lady, I s’pose I’ll just have to put up with you poisoning me.”

“The things we do for love.”

“The things we have’ta do.” Essie shook her head, but the potion seemed to have certainly shocked her more awake – her eyes having lost their afore bleariness.

And then, they shined brighter altogether.

“Oh, I got somethin’ here for you.”

An arched, dark eyebrow, wondering if this were some sort of concocted revenge, as it was Essie’s turn to reach out for something.

Essie looked back as she did just that – “Back down.”

Slyvenna did just that with barely a comment, just a question.

“Doing your hair. T’trade for your _bottle._ ”  She spoke, as one hand started running through her hair.

The other placed something onto it.

“You hear these stories, all these stories about maidens with shells woven into their hair- I’d like to try that with you.” She admitted, somewhat sheepishly, as she started weaving some hair strands around the shell that she’d apparently placed.

Well, that made sense then.

Sylvenna knew Essie had a fondness for things people would bring in – and one of her former regulars, a Lysese oarsman, had made a habit of bringing in plenty of tokens from the sea.

So, plenty of shells had been left with her, when they’d taken off back home for the last time.

That and a baby, but that was a whole other matter.

Sylvenna personally, wasn’t sure about this whole shell-braiding thing.

Beads and flowers were one thing – she had no issue, whenever her lover sought to braid those in her hair.

It was especially nice, when they could use some of the flowers that Sylvenna herself had grown and plucked.

On those days, she would return the favour by trying to take some of the fluids from the flower and make of them a nice perfume, for her Essie.

Shells, however, were a different beast altogether.

Shells, were very liable to shatter, the first time she lay back and took someone to bed today, rendering much of the effort moot.

But the sound of content in Essie’s voice, humming away as she placed and wove, hands so soft and gentle, so as not to pull and hurt…

Sylvenna allowed herself to relax back into this, feeling the warmth of her lover against her.

A comforting warmth, that helped her keep sane amongst the horror that was Kings Landing.

And with that, she decided not to raise it.

Up to and including when, they parted ways for the day, with a deep kiss that felt like fire.

 

 

* * *

 

 

During the course of the rest of the day, they did briefly wind up together once – as a customer, had been able to be swayed into desiring the both of them.

But other than that, they were mostly either completely individual in their work, or working with someone else.

Which is why it was a great relief, when they were able to reunite at the end of it.

Even as Sylvenna rubbed at a new abrasion on her neck, brought on by a man being a bit too rough with his idea of a kiss with teeth.

Essie, had finished first, it seemed – already in ‘their’ room, with their little babe held to her breast, gently stroking his silver hair and singing soft lullabies.

Sylvenna found herself joining in this time, as she lingered in the doorway.

Head swaying a bit to the tune, with no other introduction needed.

Essie briefly looked up to offer a smile, as their tunes matched to one and Sylvenna moved to the side of them both, head resting on her shoulder and hand to arm.

After a few more minutes of this and a harsh hiccup, that seemed to rattle through the babe’s entire body, the song came to a close at last.

“How’s Gaemon?” Sylvie asked, as she dangled her fingers in front of the infant.

Gaemon quickly turning from simply watching them with his odd coloured eyes, to fruitlessly trying to reach for them to suckle with hands so tiny that the task was doomed at the start.

“Greedy little boy, aren’t you? You just ate.” Sylvenna gave an affectionate laugh.

“Has the hunger of a dragon.” Essie firmly asserted, as she watched the display.

Sylvenna gave a particular _look_ in response, at her using that term again.

Essie said nothing in response to that look.

And in response to that response, came the matter of asking the question that was parsing its way through Sylvenna’s internal thoughts.

Including, up to wondering if she finally should broach it at all.

Eventually, coming to the conclusion of – yes.

She, did not like to do it, but could stay silent on the matter no longer.

This was _far_ bigger than the seashells – which _had_ , mostly broken.

Some things, you could not just let by.

 “You said his father was from Lys, yes?”

Essie’s expression wavered slightly – the fact that even Sylvenna could not decipher it, concerning her further.

Her head went off Essie’s shoulder then, as she shifter further back in the bed and folded her arms across her lap.

A more stern and resolute look firming up from her, as she did.

“They’re from dragons too, aren’t they? The Lysene. They well have the look on them.” Essie curtly replied, not quite meeting Sylvenna in the eye.

Well…Sylvenna thought so too personally, although she didn’t know too much of it.

She might have had the good fortune to at least learn how to read, courtesy of a higher up lineage than many got to have- but even while that Dornish tuition had lasted, she’d never exactly been taught much on _history_.

Wasn’t seen as _needed_.

“People might start to wonder, that’s all I’m saying.” Sylvenna as such, avoided directly answering the sort-of question.

“Call a silver-haired babe a dragon and people might start to ask certain types of questions.”

Especially, as this was far from the first time she had done it – and she wasn’t sure how Essie would _take_ to it, if those questions _were_ asked. Even if harmlessly, as Targaryen ‘dragonseeds’ were _hardly_ unheard of.

 _Even I would ask, did I not know full well, that you would have told me if these questions were the case_ – Sylvenna internally thought.

Silence, drew out from that, as Essie went on to ruffle the pale hair, eyes taking on an unfathomably…distant look, as she did.

“…Essie?” Sylvenna questioned, moving over closer again slightly, hand starting to reach out-

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Came in a quiet, small voice.

Hard to be sure, that this was heard properly at all.

“…Pardon?”

Essie shuffled uncomfortably, something which caused Gaemon to let off a small squeal of protest, before she started rocking him back and forth in her arms with a distracted shushing noise – quickly appeasing the one too little, to want much more than such small comforts from the worlds.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Came, only slightly louder than before.

This time though, she at least went on to elaborate.

“You ask me what’a dream about.” She said as her shoulders slightly hunched.

“Better.” Essie simply stated.

“Sometimes it’s silly things. Fine dresses and warm meals which aren’t just…well I know what’s in’em. Others…”

At last, eyes met once again.

“And well, we talk. We talk and we talk, with all those great, big ideas o’yours. Better no just for us, for our people, but for ery’one.”  Her eyes darted side to side then, looking around Sylvie’s shoulder.

Not that there was much worry about being overheard, with the constant din of the brothel.

“But we can’t do any them. None at all. Just us, just ours, just the women and small folk left behind.”

Sylvie felt her own heart heavier at this, as well as the corners of her lips.

Oh, did this sing to her – oh so, so frequently to her.

Sung, in waking and dreaming hours alike.

From the melodies of the policies of her home, that she concocted for the better which was spoken of, to the frantic prayers as this place and its refusal of such simple, decent things clawed at her.

_Girls, equal to their brothers in matters of inheritance._

_Poor, fed in times of famine._

_Wounded men, tended afterwards by whichever lord they had been wounded fighting for._

_Husbands delivered justice, a beating for a beating whenever they visited brutal so-called ‘chastisements’ upon their wives._

And that was only the start of it – some of the most simple of simple things, which should have been but common sense.

Simple, simple common sense that even a child could grasp as decent, fair and proper.

She could go on and on and on about all of that, right down to the finer details and scream them from the mountaintops, were she not at risk of severe punishment for doing so…acting against royalty, in such a brazen manner.

For the king would not be on her side.

Nor any of royalty-

“You wish he were.” Sylvenna simply stated, as her brain caught up and realised, then sped on ahead – machinations turning like a wagon wheel.

“One of the dragons.”

“People’d listen. More at least, if he were.”

Wagon wheels still turning.

“…Yes, I suppose they would, wouldn’t they? If kingly, dragon blood were to be on our side. Even that of a bastard.”

And turning more…

But, looking at Essie’s face – “Did something bring this on?” – she had to ask first.

Another sound in lieu of words – although this time, she could not tell what this sound meant.

“Today. Did someone upset you? Or do something to you?”

They better _not_ have.

Or, lack of expertise in those sort of potions or not-

But, Essie shook her head, as she shifted her hold on Gaemon.

“Just tirin’, is all Sylvie. Tired. I mean- what happened to your neck? I should be askin’ you these sorts a things.”

“Just a rough client. Nothing unusual. Would think he’d never kissed a woman before – probably _hadn’t._ ”

“Nothing unusual.” Essie simply repeated unhappily in response.

Sylvie meanwhile, twisted a piece of hair in thought, before finally shuffling back over to Essie and Gaemon both – wrapping her arms around her lover’s neck, while still being far enough away so as not to squish the babe.

Gently, it was Essie who then moved next – softly touching her forehead, to hers.

Then, just as softly, moving to place a light, lingering kiss on Sylvenna’s neck.

She pulled away just slightly, after a while of simply soaking up in each other as the babe cooed bellow, before moving her red lips instead up to Sylvenna’s brown ear.

“Could you talk ‘bout them? All your big ideas. Just to imagine, for t’night. Trade. I’ll ‘ave that dress finally fixed for you tomorrow.”

The trade wasn’t needed, even if Sylvie did now of and very much like the dress that was being referred to – and as such appreciate the prospect of it being fixed.

But as it was, Sylvenna was happy to talk about such things-

“Right down to the minute, my love.”

-whenever the chance arose.

And that’s what she did.

Whispering sweet words of politics into Essie’s ear.

Sweet words, as those wheels continued to turn, eventually bearing the fruit of an idea – much like Essie had once born the fruit of a child.

This idea, was one that Sylvenna would give just about anything, her own life included, to not be as utterly impossible as it was – more a dream, than any hope of a possible reality.

But…then again…that was not necessarily, too insignificant a thing.

Dreams after all, were important – not things to be forgotten or ever be taken slightly.

They meant too much and in circumstances, could change too much.

Especially, if enough people believed in them – worked for them and had the right stars align.

Far more impossible things, had been accomplished before.

Far more impossible things, than this lovely dream of a Sand and a star.


End file.
